Tainted (Reboot)
by SomeSortaAdjective
Summary: Cecilia was taken in by five WWE superstars after they found her with no recollection of the past few months. She built a new life with the WWE but her past threatens her future. What will she do? A more descriptive reboot of the original story. Featuring The Miz, Cody Rhodes, Randy Orton, CM Punk and more. R&R
1. Who? What? Where?

WRITER'S NOTE: This WWE fanfiction is a reboot of my old work, Tainted. This reboot is intended to be a more descriptive, less humorous version of the original work. It will still have some humor throughout, but I have decided that the main focus of the story will be drama and romance. It will still follow the same plot and format. Like in the last work, I do not own anything WWE-related. Cecilia, the main character, is my own original character. Enjoy!

Cecilia's POV

At first there was just darkness – then slowly, the pain became increasingly apparent.

I opened my eyes quickly in response to one particularly sharp burst of pain attacking the back of my head. My body naturally reacted as my hand grabbed the back of my head, under the impression that gentle massages of my fingers would relieve the pain. Sadly, it was effect was the opposite; the pain stung worse, even with the lightest taps of my fingers. My fingers slowly ran across the area on the back of my head where the pain was strongest. The raised area I felt clearly indicated that it was swollen. The next question was: how? Did I bump it on something? Or did something bump me?

Even though my first reaction was to open my eyes, I still couldn't see anything in all this dark room. From what I gathered from my other senses, I was side-lying on my bed in a room chilly enough to want a sweater and some socks. I opened my eyes wider in an attempt for them to adjust to the darkness quicker, yielding some success. Some objects started to take shape as my eyes scanned my room. Or what I thought was my room.

I quickly moved from laying down to sitting upright in the bed that was certainly my own. As my started to take notice of the unfamiliarity of the objects surrounding me, I hopped straight out from the bed and searched for a light switch or a lamp – anything that would allow me to see things more clearly. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. Instead of a lamp or light switch, the dim glow coming from beyond (what appeared to be) some window curtains were my best bet of getting some sort of help for my vision. I creeped up slowly to the tiny window, placed quite high up against the wall. I pulled the curtain aside and peered out the window. Clearly, I saw that I was in the middle of a parking lot during the silent quiet of the night. I could tell by looking outside that I was in some sort of RV or trailer. A large one, as well, as I was raised several feet off of the ground. There was no one I knew that own such a vehicle, or anything close to this for that matter.

That's when it hit me. Panic.

It was hard not to hyperventilate but I tried my best to calm myself down. I don't know where I am or how I had managed to get hurt, but here I am in this situation. With a deep breath, I turned away from the window and leaned myself against the wall with closed eyes. Slow and steady breaths to relax, I reminded myself. Slightly calmer, I slowly opened my eyes. The curtain I had moved aside illuminated the room further thanks to the distant street lamps and bright moonlight. The light had brought a shine to a doorknob, or in other words, my ways out.

The adrenaline quickly taking over my body told my body to immediately grab the handle, and it did just that. Just as I was about to twist the knob my brain interrupted. Behind this door, I could be looking at the person or people who brought me into this place. I have no recollection of how I got here or who I was with. Who knows what I'll be faced with? Murderers? Rapists? Kidnappers? My body shivered at these eerie thoughts coursing through my head. I just wanted to get out of here.

I opened the door slightly, cringing at the tiny creaks and squeaks it made as it did. I looked outside the small gap of the open door and saw down the right side of a small hall, lightly lit by the tiny ceiling lights. We were definitely in an RV, I thought to myself as a saw two men sleeping on sleeping on pull out beds, one stacked right on top of each other on the wall. Only by this glimpse, I could tell that this RV is quite luxurious to have double pull-out beds like that. Regardless, this is not where I belong.

I pulled the door open a little bit more, just until it was enough to slip through. Before stepping out, I took one last look at the room I was in. The gleam of a hand mirror on a dresser caught my eye. An idea was born.

If I'm going to step out in front of two sleeping men, I better have some of plan if they wake up. Tiny steps were taken to reach the hand mirror. It was cheaper variety, I noted as I inspected it. The type of hand mirror where the mirror was just lazily hot glued onto a clear plastic frame. May not be up to a par for some classy ladies, but perfect for me.

Popping the mirror off the plastic frame required almost no effort. I moved over to the bed. One strong bend of the plastic frame dropped the mirror softly onto the bed sheets. I then took the thin white sheet from the bed, covered the mirror, and took a deep breath in for what I was about to do next. I raised my elbow, bringing it down onto the mirror in an attempt to smash it into a couple of jagged pieces. A couple of painful tries later, a satisfying crack was heard within the confines of the sheets. Now I had a sharp object to defend myself with if something should happen past those doors. Unraveling the sheets, I grabbed a portion of the mirror that was as large as my palm. I used it to cut a piece of fabric from the same white sheet, wrapping it around the blunt part of the piece of jagged mirror I had in hand to create a cushioned handle. My own homemade blade.

With my blade in hand, I was more courageous to step out of that door. One foot out the door and sounds of my movement could be heard, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand. Right past the door it sounded like a blanket moving around and the springs of a mattress being manipulated. Much like the sounds you would hear of a person readjusting their sleeping position. Once the sounds subsided, my move to escape continued. Little by little, I inched my way into the little hall. The full view of the hall revealed much more than just two men sleeping on the right side, but also another two men sleeping on the left side of the tiny hall. I recognized none of these men, only causing me to want to get out of there, quicker than the pace I was going at. Standing in between the four sleeping men, I spot an exit to the RV. All I had to done was make my way across the RV's surprisingly high-class miniature kitchen and I was in the clear… I hoped.

Upon setting my sights on the door, the pace at which I was sneaking through this RV picked up. I was nearly at the exit until I took notice of a guy sleeping on a couch, much tinier than him right across from the door. The sight of the man caused me the freeze up a bit in shock. His back was facing me but I was still fearful of walking past him. No matter, the need of me to get the hell out of here was much greater than the fear that I felt. I mustered up the courage to glide past him and, finally, get my hand on that exit's doorknob. I twisted the knob but it refused to turn. Thinking it may have been stuck, I twisted it harder, and to my surprise, it turned – but not without a large snap. It didn't matter because all I had to do was push the door wide open and run – never looking back.

Wrong.

The door opened with a bang, not opening fully because it was being blocked my something on the outside. The gap it made was barely large enough for a small dog to fit through, much less myself. That feeling of panic started to overwhelm me once again. My escape was right here. Everything went perfectly until the last second. I was still pushing again the door, making every effort to widen the gap when I heard a voice from behind me.

"Hey you!"


	2. Long Way To Go

I cringed at the sound of the man's voice. The loud "hey you" physically made my eyes close, wishing that it did not just happen. With my body still facing this goddamn exit door, I sensed that the man was behind me. I opened my eyes again, focusing on the gap of the door. I was so close to getting out of here. That close.

My plan had changed as soon as the just "simply leaving" option was no longer an option. I refused to look back the man until something happened that forced me to turn around.

I felt the man place his hand on my shoulder. From the moment his hand landed on my shoulder, the grip on my makeshift blade tightened just as I quickly whipped around, moving my arm in a huge arc to take a slice at him. I threw my arm over towards him, managing to swipe his cheek with the sharp, broken piece of mirror.

"Goddamnit!" he yelled as he raise both hands to his cheek.

If I wasn't getting out of here, I might as well go out swinging. I lunged forward to take another swipe at him with the blade but he had managed to grab my arm before the pointed edge could penetrate his skin once more. His blood-stained hand made it difficult for him to properly grip my forearm but I was still weaker than him to actually break free from his grasp.

Struggling to break free, I came to a complete stop when I noticed the four sleeping men I had walked by previously, standing around me with varied looks of confusion and anger. Realizing I was outnumbered, I had eased up my once-tensed shoulders. It was hopeless. I was weak. After all, it was 5 of them against 1 of me. What was I supposed to do?

Though I had eased up a bit, the man who had grabbed my forearm had not. In fact, it had felt like he had tightened his grip on me, in fear that I may retaliate. With one hand tightly binding my arm and the other holding the open wound on his cheek, his hard stare of my face moved over the arm of mine that he was grasping – the same arm that held the blade.

"Put that… weapon down," he calmly said. The unconfident way he said "weapon" lead me to believe that he had no clue what was in my hand or where I had found it. He was staring me down – a hard stare than seem to hit me straight down to my core. A mind controlling stare that could make even the toughest-willed person submit.

I thought for a second that he was pretty calm in his tone, considered the fact that I had just attacked him and he is actively bleeding in front of me. The calmness of his voice was unnerving, as if it was the calm before the storm. He may just attack me in a few seconds and it'll all be over for me.

Unwillingly, the fingers that held the blade opened, dropping it onto the floor with a heavy thud. I proceeded to look down at it but I was, again, drawn to something else – my arm, freshly bandaged up. First, my swollen head and a bandaged up arm – what the fuck happened to me?

Next thing I know, one of the larger men was binding my hands together with duct tape and sat me down on the couch. He watched me closely, as if I was going to try anything else. He had nothing to worry about – I wasn't going to try anything. Besides, where would I go? The door is blocked. They didn't say a word. I just looked down, avoiding all eye contact. Possibly… this was the end of my story.

Phil's POV (a.k.a. CM Punk)

"Fuck," I said as I was cleaning off my blood from my hands in the bathroom sink. The kitchen sink would have been just as good but I didn't want to see that woman's face right now. I felt the anger building up inside of me. I had nearly exploded back there. Nearly. I don't know what stopped me. I guess it was the fact that four of my co-workers were standing around me. Who knows what would have happened if they weren't there.

I hate that I was thinking of beating this unknown woman down but in my mind, she deserved it after the stunt she pulled.

I shook my head as if to shake these terrible thoughts away but that only made the gash on his face sting.

"We shouldn't have taken her on the bus, but no one would listen to good ole CM Punk, right? Now look at what's happened. Nothing but trouble. I knew it," I said out loud for everyone on the RV to hear. I looked up from the sink towards the mirror, taking a good look at the damage that has been caused. The cut had stopped bleeding but it was a nasty cut. There was definitely going to be a scar. No doubt about that. I groaned angrily and continued to wash the blood from the wound while gritting my teeth as the stinging pain continued.

As I was check the gash out again in the mirror, I saw Mike Mizanin appear from behind me.

"You okay?" Mike questioned. I could tell he was half asleep. No one in their right mind would ask me if I was okay was this large wound on my face.

"Oh me? I'm peachy. Just cleaning the large open area of my face. No big deal," I said sarcastically. I could see Mike's face in the mirror, annoyed by my response.

"Come on, I've seen worse cuts than that. Besides, if it's no big deal, I guess you won't be need this handy-dandy first aid kit." Mike raised up his arm, shaking the kit with rattle. He gave a small, quick smirk and began to walk away from me.

"Mizanin!" I yelled. "Hand that over to me right now," I demanded. He back backwards into his previous spot and tossed it towards me. It nearly fell into the sink, but I managed to catch it right before it landed. Now I only I was quick enough to catch that woman's hand before she got at my face. I wouldn't be dealing with this problem.

Before Mike was out of earshot, I shot him a quick sentence reacting to his last statement.

"Just because you've seen worse, doesn't mean I deserve it, Mizanin"

Mike's POV (a.k.a. The Miz)

I heard Punk's last little quip but brushed it off quickly. He was overreacting and he knows it. Punk was just making it a big deal because he was the only one who wanted to leave this girl on the street. Leave her on the street? She was clearly assaulted and unconscious when we found her. Who in their right mind would leave someone out like that?

In a sleepy haze, I shuffled back towards my bed and sat on it edge. I yawned and my eyes started to water. I wanted to stay awake to find out what this woman's story was. What made her attack Phil? It wasn't a bad idea to let her stay on the RV… right?

Randy's POV

I picked up the bloody, sharp object this woman had dropped on the floor. I unraveled the cloth to find that a mirror was the culprit of all this havoc. I looked at the bloodied mirror and at this girl sitting right in front of me, squinting me eyes as if that would help me analyze her. She didn't look like the type of person that would devise something as dangerous as this to hurt someone. Was taking her in a bad idea?

Cecilia's POV

I didn't have to look up to know that the man standing in front of me was staring me down. I looked up to see him examining the broken piece of mirror I had dropped. I noticed his arms were very muscular with sleeve tattoos running down both arms. In fact, now that I'm actually looking up and around that these people. They were all quite muscular. Who are these people? What do they even want from someone like me?

The guy standing next to me was pretty memorable, as he was wearing the brightest colored pajamas I have ever had the displeasure of looking at. Even more noticeable, he was wearing a neon orange sunglasses.

What a clown, I thought.

I looked forward and gave a small smirk at my thoughts just to see that the rest of them were crowed in front of me. Well, this is it.

"Listen, if you're going to kill me, just do it now. Fast and quick… That's all I ask" I said sadly. My voice was weak and powerless. I closed my eyes tight and dropped my head, waiting for the end. I didn't know how it was going to come, but it was coming regardless of what I do. After a few long seconds, I opened my eyes, shooting a confused look at them all. They looked just as confused as I was. I looked at all of them in silence with my eyes darting from each of the men's' stare.

The guy with the, now bandaged, cut on his face was the first to break the awkward silence. "Look, if you would have spoken before you acted, you would have known that we're not here to fuckin' hurt you."

I still didn't understand. "So, why exactly am I here in this RV? What could you guys possibly want? What are you planning? Where did you…" I was cut off when the guy with the sunglasses signaled me to hush.

"Shh," he softly whispered. "Give us a chance to explain and just stay quiet, little girl." I was pretty offended with the "little girl." I'm 20 for crying out loud. He kneeled down and put a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. I proceeded to try and shake him off.

"Dude," the guy with the faux-hawk called "Mizanin" started. "You are scaring her more than comforting her. Give her some space." The man with the sunglasses proceed to take his hand off of my shoulder, backing away.

"Listen, we found you knocked out around the arena we performed at," the man with the sleeve tattoos explained. "We decided to take you into our bus. I mean, we couldn't just leave you there. From what we heard, that place we found you at is a dangerous area – day or night. We're on the way to the hospital but something is wrong with the engine. Chuck, our driver, is out fixing it up."

Arena? What was I doing around the arena? I had no business there.

"Okay… so, you guys are good Samaritans. Thanks. Can I leave?"

"Oh no, no, no," the guy with the bandaged face quickly responded. "Not until you answer some questions. You're not going anywhere after this." He pointed a finger at his wound. "First of all, what is your name?"

Should I fake a name? I don't know these people. My response was heard quickly.

"I'm… Cecilia." I immediately regretted saying it as my name rolled off my tongue.

"Good answer Cecilia," the paled skin, red-hair man said with a thick Irish accent. He threw something on my lap, making me jump slightly since I was already on edge. It was upside down but I recognized it as my ID card. They already knew my name. So, they were just testing me? Introductions went around the room as followed: Zack, Randy, Phil, Mike, and Sheamus.

"Now that we're past the first step of building a trusting relationship, we can actually get somewhere."


	3. Welcome

**Cecilia's POV**

I sat with a slump, hands still bound behind my back with the duct tape. My hands were trapped so tightly within the duct tape that the edges of the tape had begun to scrape my skin off with even the slightest movements. I turned my head back to try and get a look at my wrists, but it didn't help at all. Randy had gone to a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a small, but sharp knife. As he brought the knife over to me, my body immediately tensed up. Randy hovered over me and I felt the cold, blunt part of the knife slide against my wrists, in-between the duct tape. A few swipes and little effort later, I was free at last. Only then my body started to relax.

As he backed away from me, his mouth stopped briefly at my ear and whispered, "A little jumpy, aren't you?" He continued to back away as I looked him dead in the eyes. His stare was cold but his voice had a warm, welcoming tone to it. Talk about mixed signals.

I didn't know how to react to his statement, so I just looked down, focusing on my hands. I opened and closed my hands, trying to get the blood flowing through them again. My eyes were slowly drawn to my bandaged up left arm once again. Questions about what happened to me riddled my mind once more. Curious, I started to pick at the loose edges and unwrap the bandage until Randy snapped at me.

"Hey! Don't do that! It might get infected or something. We're going to the hospital as soon as we get rolling."

Quickly, I shook my head at him. "No! I don't want to go to the hospital." I hesitated with an excuse of not going. "I-I got no medical insurance. Plus I… don't have any cash to pay to get this all stitched up. I'm fine – I just need rest."

Of course, everything that I said was a lie. I clearly wasn't fine. I was beat up from the looks of it. I had a small memory of having a stack of money somewhere but I could pull myself together enough to actually remember where. Plus, simply walking into a hospital was not an option for me. The doctors would just pull up my records and they'd be forced to call the authorities on me. Though I couldn't remember much, I do know that I have committed a bunch of petty crimes since last summer and I've taken extra precautions to not get caught. No sense of just turning myself at this point.

"Eh, I don't know about that. I think you should go and get all of the checked out," Mike said, referring to my injuries. He look genuinely worried.

I stood up and shrugged. "Listen – I'm fine. I took care of myself almost all my life. This is not a problem for me. Honest." I tried giving him a smile, but it came off as weak and, quite honestly, pretty sad. "If you really want to help, I could take an aspirin right about now. Aspirin sounds like a dream right now, "I complained with my hand on the back of my head. The throbbing pain never quit, it was just stronger now than it's been before.

Mike gave me a quick nod and walked off.

 **Phil's POV**

What were you doing in a place like that anyways? You like hanging in and around the danger zones?" I asked. She looked up at me suddenly, eyes widened and eyebrows scrunched. She looked worried – real worried.

"Was it something I said?" I questioned.

"What the fuck," I heard her mutter under her breath. Her hands raised up onto her forehead with her head dropped towards the floor as if she's done something terribly wrong. "I can't remember anything… except the night of my birthday."

Night of her birthday? I put all the puzzle pieces together.

"Okay," I started, "so, yesterday was your birthday. Chances are you got super drunk. Stumbled around a few times. Got a couple of scrapes and bumps and passed out near the arena. That explains things." I don't drink but I have gotten the pleasure of seeing others in their drunken stupor. Like that time Mike woke up in somebody's garden. Wet. Dirty. With only a party hat on. I have a picture of him on that night somewhere… just in case. Watching these idiots get drunk was just as good as drinking itself, I would imagine.

"I guess," she expressed with a sigh of relief. "I just never partied as hard as I did on any other January 14 of my life." She let out a light snort, as she was probably reliving the eventful night… but something she said didn't add up to me.

I quickly grabbed my cellphone that I had left on the kitchen counter – today was June 26th.

 **Cecilia's POV**

Damn, did I really drink that much? Never again.

The RV door flung open to a short, chubby guy in a slight dirty white shirt and black suit pants.

"We are ready to go; just say the word, guys," said the man. I'm guessing this was Chuck, the RV's driver. My guess is that he had something to do with the door being blocks as he worked on the engine. Slowly, it hit me; the heat from outside the RV crept onto me – a dramatic change as we were inside the freezing cold RV. It was way too hot for January. I mean, it was WAY too hot for January.

I looked over at Phil, who was standing near me with a cellphone in hand. His expression was somewhat of surprise. His slight gasp turned into words. "It's June 26th, kid," he finally spit out.

No. How could that be? Why couldn't I remember anything from my birthday until now? Again, my hands reached up to my face, trying hard to remember that last 6 months. Could this possibly get any worse?

Without asking, Sheamus handed me a glass of water upon hearing the news. I kindly accept though it was hard to swallow due to the dryness of my throat. Zack took the glass away from me once I couldn't take another sip, placed it on the counter, and rested a hand on my back for comfort. It was strange; I hardly knew these people, but they wanted to help me? Am I on Earth right now? I was untrusting of people and for good reason. I didn't grow up surrounded with rainbows and butterflies.

A few seconds after my realization, Randy and Mike had returned to the circle of men around me. Mike stretched out his hand towards me and handed me the aspirin. It took me no time at all for the pill to enter my mouth. Could I get some relief right now?

Randy looked over at me. "Cecilia, I think the hospital is your best option right now. I… I mean, WE… insist that you go. It could be serious. You're all banged up and you can't remember anything. Doesn't that scream 'emergency'?"

No way in hell I was going. I wasn't going to take my chances heading to jail. I'm a low-time criminal, but a criminal nonetheless.

"Maybe," I started to say, "I just need a good night's sleep. Maybe it'll all come back to me after then." I was loosely grabbing at excuses but it was the only choice. My only choice.

I looked Randy straight in his eyes, trying to convey my need to stay out of the hospital. I faked a look as if I was fine: back straight, strong stare, emitting confidence through my body posture. Randy scrunched up his eyebrow, unable to break his stare.

"Well, do you at least have a safe place to go? Where do you live? The least we can do is drop you off," Randy said.

Thinking long and hard about my answer, I came to a conclusion that I had nowhere to go. I didn't know where home was to me. My parents were out of the question. I don't want to see them. The last time I heard from them was when I was 15. I don't remember the people I talked to; plus, I had no way of contacting them even if I did. I was left with no place to go and no place to be. I had nothing.

I dropped my head in disappointment. The silence made my answer painfully clear; I was a lost soul. The awkward silence filled the RV until it was broken by Zack.

"Could I make a crazy suggestion?" he blurted out.

"No," Phil said almost immediately.

"Well," Zack continued, ignoring Phil completely, "she could travel with us, right? It won't be a big deal… right?"

The reactions of these men all differed. Phil glared at Zack with his intense eyes. Randy and Sheamus shot a confused look at Zack. Mike, completely in thought, had a hand to his chin as he looked up at the ceiling. Zack, on the other end of the stick, had a huge grin on his face.

"Oh come on guys. One more girl traveling with us wouldn't hurt," Zack happily chimed in.

Considering me options, I decided to tag along with Zack's idea. I looked over at Phil, who had raised his hand up to his face. He was pointing at his wounded cheek.

"Well, that won't happen again, right? Come on, she was scared," Zack tried to convince Phil.

"No," Phil bluntly stated, "my first reaction to a situation like this is to talk it out. Not to turn into some savage beast, blindly attacking everyone in my way."

Randy turned to Cecilia. "What are your thoughts on this, Cecilia?"

All eyes were on me. They have been somewhat good to me so far; I may as well given them my raw thoughts.

"I don't have anywhere to go and I don't expect you all to do me any special favors. I'm not saying I should be a parasite and feed off you guys forever, but at least give me the time to gather myself and create a decent plan for myself out there on my own."

 **Randy's POV**

"Guys… let's talk about this… weird situation," I said.

The guys all gathered around me, most of our backs facing Cecilia. Zack was the last to enter the huddle.

"So, are we keeping her?" Zack asked. Phil shot a mean look quickly at Zack.

"She's not some cute, little puppy dog we found lost on the street, Zack. And do I really have to remind everyone about what she did to my face? I feel like you all are glazing over that fact." Phil raised an eyebrow to all of us.

He was right.

Mike quickly responded to Phil. "She has nothing: no memory, no home, no money. Nothing. Let's just keep her around for now. Just until she starts remembering things." Mike glanced at Phil's cheek. "I doubt she would attack you again after we officially take her in. If anything, she would come after you if you left her out on the street again!" Phil's stare when straight from Mike to Cecilia. He shook his head violently and left the circle in frustration.

Sheamus looked at Mike. "To a certain extent, Phil's right. She could be anyone. Look at wha' she was capable of – she made a weapon from things in the bedroom. Could of seriously hurt one o' us, easily," Sheamus explained. Mike had nothing to come back at Sheamus with. Mike knew Sheamus was right. I did too.

I looked over Zack's shoulder to have a look at Cecilia once more. She had her hand one too many times to her head. You could tell she was trying hard to remember something. Anything. You could even feel her frustration across the room. We continued to discuss the situation. After a short heated debate. We finally came to a conclusion. A conclusion that some were not happy with.

Individually, we made our way over to Cecilia, and once we were all there, we had made our decision known.

"Cecilia," I said sternly. She sat up straight and gave me a worried look. I would have looked the same way if I was in her position – she had nowhere to go and her life was going to be determined by five men she didn't know.

"For the meantime," I began to say, "you can stay with us." A small smile formed on my face even though I didn't intend for it to happen. This was supposed to be a serious moment. Color came back into her flushed face almost as fast as she jumped up and hugged me.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she chanted happily. I was a little shocked but I hugged her back anyways. She needed the comfort. This night was too much to process for any person. She was a tiny little thing in my huge arms. It made me chuckle.

"On one condition…" Phil interrupted. She broke out of the hug and looked at Phil. "Don't attack me again," Phil said seriously.

"I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you somehow. I promise," she said with a genuine look of upset on her face.

"Alright, you are now travelling with us… the WWE. Just behave yourself, okay?" I ruffled the hair on the top of her head and signaled to Chuck to get the bus moving to our next RAW show.

 **Cecilia's POV**

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath out as I plopped myself unto the couch. The guys each said their goodnights before making their way back to bed.

Mike yelled from the back, "Oh my bed. How I missed you so," followed by a couple of kissing sounds. I let out a small laugh and laid myself onto the couch.

I noticed Phil head towards the back where the huge bed I was in before was. He slammed the door shut loudly, clearly unhappy about the decision. I was drifting off to sleep until I heard Phil cursing beyond the bedroom door. I had forgotten about the extra mirror shards I left on the bed. Whoops.

I'll apologize in the morning.


End file.
